The hunt
by Miss Mockingjay
Summary: Clove has waiting for the thrill of the hunt for years, it's what she's been trained for. But when she looks into the dying eyes of her latest kill she feels something she never thought she'd feel. A one-shot. Please R


The Hunt

I watch the flames dance on the wood as the sky begins to turn pink. Cato rubs his arms where the tracker Jackers stung him, the swellings going down but we all still feel sore and a bit dizzy from the attack.

"You know how I'm going to kill that District 12 girl when we find her?" He asks, beginning to sharpen his sword, an edge sharper than the blade, to his voice.

"Hay! Who said you get to kill her! You had your chance when you climbed that tree and fall!" I protest, Marvel struggles to hold in his laughter opposite me. I've been picturing her stupid little face when I throw my knife through her heart all day, it's the only thing that made me suck up the aching in my limbs and the clouds in head when I woke. I feel Cato tense up next to me.

"Oh you think that's funny do you Mavel ?" He yells jumping up.

"No! I...I was just... thinking about a joke." Marvel lies.

"Lair! You were laughing at me!" Cato shouts, striding towards him, anger flaring on his face.

"Don't you call me a lair, you idiot" Marvel retorts, shoving him.

"Don't you call me an idiot, you jerk!" He shoves him back, harder. This continues for a few more seconds before they lose their temper and reach for their blades.

"Hay! Cut it out you two, you sound like a couple of five olds!" I step in-between them. "If we're gonna catch her we've gotta stick together." They murmur a reluctant agreement and go back to their places, glaring at each other.

"When I see that pathetic little fire girl I'm gonna make her pay for what she did to Glimmer, for what she did to us and for humiliating me. I'll cut her so deep that every drop of blood will flow out of her." Cato says smiling at the image, his icy blue eyes thawing._ I like it when he smiles; the dark look in his eyes always disappears. He looks less sinister, handsome even._ I shake my head, trying to get that thought out of my mind. I've had far too many like them since the reaping.

"Not if I catch her first." I say.

"Well if you do get her first, promise me you'll put on a good show." He replies darkly.

I have no problem making that promise.

"I promise." A grin spreading across my face.

Abel , the little boy from 3 takes the pot from above the fire and pours the soup into our out stretched bowls. He keeps his head down and says nothing.

"Why haven't we killed him already? The mines are set up. He's of no use to us now. I've seen twigs that are thicker than his arms." Marvel grumbles, prodding his arm as he finishes filling his bowl. His eyes widen in fear as he slowly backs away from him.

"He is useful. He's a good lookout and cook." I say. He grunts "I guess" and we sit in silence as the sky begins to darken.

Suddenly Abel's little voice breaks the silence.

"What's that?" He points towards the edge of the forest. There's a flicker of movement between the trees. I can just make out a pair of big blue eyes looking out cautiously. _Those aren't human_.

"It's a tribute!" Cato yells excitedly. " See? He is useful." We jump up and grab are favourite weapons. The tribute bolts. We run after them.

"Wait! What about him?" Marvel nods to Abel who picks up a spear gingerly.

"Leave him. He's no good in combat and he'll only slow us down." Cato says. Abel sits down, looking relieved.

The forest looks so different through night vision goggles. Everything's bathed in green and the eyes glow. Adrenaline shots through my veins and the anticipation of a kill builds as our prey comes into sight. I block everything else out as the distance between us narrows. This is it, the thrill of a real hunt. Not like finding that idiot from 8 or the slaughter at the Cornucopia. That was all too easy. This is what I've been trained for, the chase and fight I'm hoping they'll put up.

I can almost smell their fear. _That's right you should be scared. We're the hunters and you're the prey. It's time to remind everyone of why we're the greatest threat in this Arena._ I pull a knife out of my jacket and take aim. Their scream, a boy's, echoes around the arena as it hits him in the back. But he pulls it out and keeps going, determined to survive.

He gradually gets slower and slower but he still doesn't stop. _Why don't you just give up? You know there's no way you can outrun us._

Finally Cato catches up with him and strikes his legs with his sword. The boy falls. But as Cato grabs him and hauls him up he kicks and punches him. Struggling as if he's still got a chance.

As we reach them I catch a glimpse of his face in the moonlight, it's the boy from 10.

"So much for having a limp. I gotta admit you had us fooled. I would have put money on you not making it five minutes." Marvel sneers. It's true, that's why none of went for him in the bloodbath. But he's made it against the odds; even now he looks us in the eye defiantly. I can't help but admire that.

"So who gets to do the honours?" Cato asks. He looks at me and grins. "Why don't you give the audience a little pre view of what you'll do to the Girl on Fire if you catch her?" I force myself to smile.

"With pleasure." I take out another knife. Cato holds him still as I take a step closer.

Those blue eyes bore into me, the flames of anger and courage burn within them. But there's something else there, fear. Sweat is forming on his forehead but he's beginning to shiver.

"What are waiting for!" Marvel yells impatiently. I glance at him; he looks almost animal like, a deranged hungry look on his face. Bloodlust. I see it on Cato's too. Why don't I feel it? I felt it raging inside me at the Cornucopia and when we were chasing Fire Girl, but not now.

I hold the knife to the boy's throat. I'm shaking . I take a deep breath and draw the blade across it.

He doesn't flinch; he doesn't cry out, the only way I know his throat has even been slit is by the warm blood I feel running down my hand. I dare to open my eyes, just in time to his last breath. He looks at me with pure hatred. Then the spark of life is completely gone from his eyes and the cannon fire replaces the sound of his breathing.

"That's it! You slit his throat? So much for putting on a show." Marvel says sounding very disappointed. He walks away, I follow numbly.

I keep replying that last look my latest kill gave me. _Is that how people see me? As some hateful, evil killer?_

"You OK?" Cato asks, walking beside me.

"No." I surprise myself by whispering. "I just killed a boy who I didn't even know the name of."

"But you didn't know the name of any of the other kills."

"I know. But this was different; it was like I saw him as a person, not just another tribute. It wasn't in the heat of the moment, I had a choice."

"What happened to the Clove I've saw in training? The ruthless girl who longed for a kill? There's no room for sentimentality in these Games, Clove. Sentiment kills here." He says, sounding ruthless. But then he catches my sad face in the moonlight and he softens. He reaches up and wipes are tear away from my eyes that I didn't even know was there.

"I know this is hard, Clove. Harder than anyone ever told us it would be. They lied to us, about the glory, the satisfaction of the kill, the honour of fighting. But we're here now and we have to play the parts already cast for us, and those parts don't include mercy and remorse."

I just nod. But this is no longer a game. In fact I release it never was for us. None of us our the players, we're merely the pieces.


End file.
